Lady Bird

Lady Bird ★★★★★

“don’t you think maybe they’re the same thing? love and attention?”

yes. yes I do.

I haven’t watched a movie in three weeks. It’s a culmination of a lot of second semester of college is proving to be way more demanding than my first, anxiety, friend drama. but the thing weighing heaviest on my heart is the passing of a dear friend from high school just one week ago. 

I’ve been home for the past three days, seeing people I’ve know for the majority of my life in the lowest, most vulnerable place you could ever be in. I’ve given too many hugs to count and cried so many tears I’m surprised I have enough left to choke up while I type this now. 

in the simplest of words, my heart is broken. for his family, for my friends, my former classmates, and for my home. I drove around today and just...looked. I looked at all of the storefronts that haven’t changed since I was in diapers, the new crosswalks, the curves in the backroads that I have memorized, and the stretch of highway that connects us to the rest of the world. I drove the route I took every day for four years, and looked at the school that I once couldn’t wait to escape, the one I begged time to speed up for so I would never have to look at it again...the one that I would now give anything to step back into and sit in front of my friend in history class just one more time. or take silly pictures of him from across the classroom in english. or see him in the halls and flash him a smile when he says my name the way he said everyone’s: with the same enthusiasm, but special. like he really was happy to see you, specifically. 

we weren’t the best of friends. I will never know the pain that his best friend- who held onto hugs for as long as he could this week, like he just needed to know that people were there- or his family- who loved him so much they used that love as strength to speak at the funeral- or his girlfriend- who is one of the brightest, warmest human beings you’ll ever meet, and whose light and warmth never stopped glowing once, even for a second- is experiencing. but I feel their pain. I paid such close attention to the manifestations of everyone’s pain, I have a slideshow of tearful eyes and choked sobs and silent nods playing in my head that I don’t think will ever stop. 

I paid attention. I always have. that’s how I know exactly where I have to slow down for cops, or how I could tell simply by the way someone looked at me, or held me, that my presence meant something to them. that’s how I know I love my home, and how I know now that my years of wishing it away from me are far gone. 

because I pay attention.

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